


Where Do Lost Dreams Go?

by CynicalBonehead



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Backstory, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Dubious Morality, Lord High Bastards, Morally Grey Sergy, Mutual Interest, Pining, Pitch is a bastard, Slow Build, Slow Burn, barely even lit in slow burn terms, dreamcore, minor horror themes, the serpent tag is only there so yall know who this fucker is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 02:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalBonehead/pseuds/CynicalBonehead
Summary: All lost dreams have some place to go, yet it evades even the guardian of dreams himself. No outsider smart enough would tread in such foreboding unnatural lands. All except for Pitch Black, who is curious of the legend of The Valley Of Lost Dreams and it's mysterious protector...(Based off the small backstory tidbit Joyce gave us on the one off character "The Lermantoff Serpent" with a LOT of creative liberties and original lore.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Where Do Lost Dreams Go?

The Valley Of Lost Dreams was a mysterious place that not even The Guardians dared not to tread into. The valley had little to no human inhabitants..all except for one man. A man who was chosen for his prowess and knowledge. His curiosity over how the golden valley formed eventually led him to reside there. The winds that carried the dream sand through the valley always kept him relatively calm and collected as he worked.

His name was Sergy Lermantoff.

Sergy had his quill between his teeth as he carefully poured the newest batch of dream sand from his kiln. With a smile on his face, he began to rotate the mold just slightly so it would lay flat for the melted sand to move around.

"Now what color will you be, I wonder?" Sergy muttered to himself.

His tome of dream symbolism was already opened to the color chapter nearby on his sketching table. It was one of many books that helped him decipher dreams and their hidden meanings, but they mostly lay around his cluttered bookshelves. An organized disaster Sergy called it. He left the glass to sit for a moment, took the quill out of his mouth and rested it in it's holder. With a snap of his fingers, his tall glass of water levitated into his warm hands. Sergy took a big gulp from it and gazed at the little embers that occasionally escaped his kiln. It would only take a few minutes to melt, so he didn't have to keep himself busy for long. He got his wires ready before carefully pulling the mold off the then cooled glass. He leaned in close and carefully lifted the glass with his gloved fingers into the light.

"Blue huh..? Fascinating.." Sergy glanced over at his tome and pushed his glasses up so he could properly read the tome. "Blue: Truth, wisdom, optimism for the future or feeling sad."

Sergy rolled his eyes, "Of course that would be there. I'll be the judge of that I guess.."

As Sergy carefully pulled wire through a small hole in the glass, he looked into the dream glass to see what was the story the shard had to tell. It showed a young girl being pushed on a swing by her father, but his face was blurred.

"Have you forgotten his face little one? This dream appears happy, yet I see why you are blue." He sighed and waved his hand over the glass, "How dull." The dream's vision ceased and he carefully hung it with the other colored dream shards from previous sessions.

The shards quietly chimed in the wind and reflected the warm sunlight through his room. His kiln shut with a loud thud after he waved his finger and Sergy walked over to his windowsill. The valley was fully awake and its lush russet colored grass danced with the wind. Most days were like this for Sergy, glass making and soaking in the valley's small gifts to him. Those days were his favorite, nothing else to do but lean in his windowsill and let the wind cool his face after a hard day of research.

Unfortunately this was not one of those days.

As Sergy's eyes laid shut, a rather loud chirping rang through his ears and practically rattled his skull. He grunted and opened his eyes to see one of the valley birds frantically trying to get his attention.

"I'm up! I'm up!" Sergy grumbled, "What, did a nature spirit wander in here again?"

The bird shook its head no and looked like it wanted Sergy to follow it.

Sergy sighed and lifted himself off the windowsill.

"Fine. Give me a moment to get my hiking boots on.."

  
  
  
  
  


By the time he reached the mouth of the nearby forest, dozens of panicked birds and dream sprites were leading him through the flora. Whoever it was that was foolish to wander into the valley must've concerned the wildlife enough to gather like that.

"Nightmare what? Gods all of you talking at once isn't helping-" Sergy froze mid sentence to see a man fast asleep in a patch of russet and violet clovers.

His skin was gray as ash and his hair was dark as coal. The man looked human but something about his presence gave him the impression of something more. With much caution, he turned over the mysterious man with the dull part of his ranseur's hilt. The man's attire certainly gave off the impression that he was someone of importance, a general perhaps. Maybe even a king.

"Do any of you recognize him..?" Sergy whispered.

"He looks like the Nightmare King." One sprite spoke up.

Sergy tapped the pole of his trusty weapon in thought, "It would make sense a dream entity would make it this far."

"Are you going to throw him out? If he wakes up who knows what he will do to the valley!" Another sprite squeaked in concern.

Despite how grating they were being, the sprites had a point. If that was truly the Nightmare King, then he posed a true danger to Sergy and the valley. He had to make a decision quickly.

With a heavy sigh he raised his hand and caused the sleeping king to slowly float off the ground.

"There’s no way he will remain asleep forever. If I maintain a neutral stance I might be able to make him leave peacefully. If I can't I'll send a signal.. I'm counting on you all."

The sprites and birds made sounds that resembled a 'yes sir' in their native tongues. They moved out of his way as he walked out of the fields with the floating sleeping king not far behind. Once the two were far away from the nearby trees, Sergy lowered the king to the ground and stood over him. While he waited for his 'visitor' to awaken, he decided to fix his low hanging red ponytail and tighten it up so it would not get in his way. Just as he was finished, he could hear the man by his feet beginning to stir.

"So, you're finally awake." Sergy said glaring down at him, "I admit you lasted a lot longer than the usual wandering spirit. You passed out just before you could reach the end of the Slumbering Woods. Impressive, almost."

Sergy had his ranseur's blade just above the king's chest, "State your business, Nightmare King, if that is who you are."

The Nightmare King chuckled, "Yes, I am. I had heard rumors of the High Lord of this valley..A silver tongued magic devil was it..?"

"Oh look at that, you have heard of me." Sergy smirked, "But enough with the flattery. I asked you a question. Why are you here?"

Pitch had tried to get up but the weapon that pressed against his chest made his limbs feel like they were made of lead.

"What is this..?" He grunted.

"You think I protect this valley and not have powerful weapons in my possession? It's embedded with stones that make spirits like you almost as powerless as a human." Sergy hissed, "I'll ask you one more time."

His ranseur was inches away from piercing his chest.

"Why. Are. You. Here."

Pitch had not crossed paths with a person who made him feel powerless like that in a very long time. Was he afraid of this man? No of course not, he had powers far beyond his understanding, yet Pitch could not sense a trace of fear in the Lord Protector in front of him. How intriguing..

"I am The Nightmare King, Pitch Black, I came here to see if the rumors were true..that a valley of lost dreams and it's fierce protector existed."

Sergy raised his brow but remained unmoved, "Well good. Now that you've seen it, you can leave."

"My my. Are you always this hospitable?"

"Yes as a matter of fact. Now that if that's truly all you came here for I can escort you to the end of the valley or you can make your way there yourself. I have no intentions in getting wrapped up in the conflicts between you and The Guardians-"

"Oh no no no, you have me all wrong." Pitch almost hesitated, "Is it true you preserve dreams?"

Sergy tensed slightly, "Yes, what about it..?"

"Can you preserve a dream for me?"

It certainly wasn't something he had never heard before, but Pitch Black of all people requesting such a thing from him..? He couldn't help but be on guard but he could tell that Pitch was being sincere for the most part. He slowly raised his weapon off of Pitch's chest and allowed him to stand.

"I could fulfill your request, but what is in it for me? Besides you leaving my valley in peace." Sergy pulled back his ranseur enough to where Pitch could move a little.

Pitch stretched his heavy limbs and gazed back at Sergy, "You'll stay out of our 'conflict', just like you wish and I’ll give you something that should make your experiments.. _interesting._ ”  
  
Sergy raised his brow, his curiosity peaked, “Go on.”

The corners of Pitch’s mouth curled as he materialized a horrid black substance from his hands, “Nightmare essence. Preserving it in a physical form might be interesting, wouldn’t you say? It’s hard to keep in a physical form for long..but mixed with your experiments well. Who knows how far you’ll get.”  
  
Sergy stared intensely at the suspended inky liquid that flowed from Pitch’s hands. To others it would have been a horrifying thing to see but Sergy saw it as a forbidden fruit. Tantalizing yet dangerous.

“I assume that sweetens the deal enough for you?” Pitch smirked.

“What if I run out?” Sergy could feel the sprite’s concerned gazes pierce his being but he could not stop. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when the occasion arises. I have to make sure it doesn’t look like I’m up to something with you, remember?”

Sergy bit his lip lightly, “Right.” He then turned away from Pitch, “We better move before the valley gets to you again. We can talk further in my nook of a dwelling.”

Pitch waved the nightmare substance away, fading into nothingness in the wind, and he began to follow the High Lord of the valley.  
“Fascinating how it does not bother you.”  
  
Sergy lightly chuckled, “I do not rest easy because of it. The dream sand is almost everywhere in this valley. Those who dwell in it for extended periods of time either; give in and fall into an eternal slumber, or build an immunity to it and have a hard time falling asleep naturally.”  
  
Pitch refrained from displaying too much surprise on his face. Were it not for his prowess in dreams and sleep, he could have fallen into such a slumber. Sergy stepped over a hunk of moss without giving it a second thought. However, upon a second glance Pitch could swear he saw a finger bone poking out beneath it. 

_‘A victim to the valley.’_ He thought.

Seeing that skeleton really made Pitch slightly grateful that he was a little more resistant to the valley’s effects than whatever that unlucky soul was. Did the High Lord before him see so many, that it didn’t phase him anymore? 

_'What a fascinating individual..’_ Pitch smirked to himself. 

“We’re almost there.” Sergy commented as he continued to remain unfazed by the odd landscape around them.

It seemed the farther they went, the more ‘off’ the valley seemed. Eyes appeared where they shouldn’t have been, plants warped into unnatural shapes, it was almost maddening. Sergy glanced behind him and could already tell what was going on.

“That’s just the valley’s effect on outsiders. Quite a trip isn’t it?” Sergy snickered, “It will wear off once we get inside.”

“It’s certainly interesting to put it lightly. I’ll have to take notes on what I’m seeing here.. Lots of material for future nightmares.”  
  
Sergy chuckled, “Probably. I’m not surprised you’re admiring it, what are you seeing if I may ask?”  
  
Pitch paused for a moment to look at his surroundings again, “Lot’s of eyes. Hands sticking up out of the ground. Some people I used to know but their faces are empty.”  
  
“Fascinating.” Sergy smirked, he showed no signs of pity towards Pitch, “That means a few different things but I wonder if daydreams have the same meanings as dreams..”  
  
“Is that what I’m doing? Daydreaming?” Pitch raised a brow, “This valley keeps astounding me more and more..” 

Before Pitch knew it, he could see a mountain side up ahead and a door that Sergy was fiddling with. The door clicked and slowly opened to reveal a mostly normal looking dwelling. Pitch followed Sergy inside and he was pleasantly surprised at how bigger it was on the inside. Sergy snapped his fingers and some various plants nearby all sat up in attention.  
  
“They’ll purify the air in here so the effects for you wear off. I’ll be just a moment.” Sergy stepped off past a few towering bookcases filled to the brim with books and eccentric knick knacks. 

He glanced around more and unshockingly there were more of those stones that made his powers useless. They decorated the door frames and some were miscellaneous pieces strewn about on a desk or two. Curiously, he stepped over to it and scooped one of the raw pieces and inspected it closely.  
  
“Amethyst..” He grumbled.

Pitch then picked up the greenish stone and recognized it from Sergy’s weapon. It made his hand flush and get alarmingly warm. He dropped it and nearly hissed at the energy it brought to his body, much to Sergy’s amusement. 

“Moldavite. It’s overwhelming isn’t it? Wondrous for keeping beings like you in check.” He chuckled, “The kiln is fired up, we can discuss our deal in my workshop now if you’re ready to move on.” He called from the doorway.

“You’re very to the point I see,” Pitch quickly put the moldavite back on Sergy’s desk and followed him into a quaint little room. 

He could see a worktable with a few books of dream symbolism and meanings, glass molds and a few carving tools. A smaller bookshelf sat beside the table with more dream books and some leather bound books. From the ceiling, some stray colored shards hung almost like wind chimes. If Pitch squinted, he could see blurry visions of dreams trapped inside. Sergy plopped down into a chair that could levitate around the floor as if it had wheels. A sketchpad, quill and charcoal piece levitated into his lap. Sergy then spun around to face Pitch and gestured to him to sit in a chair that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Now then, if it doesn’t bother you, I’d like to know exactly what you want with your dreams. As in what shape do you want them. Specific colors.. That sort of nonsense.” 

Pitch smirked and tapped his knee in thought. “A mosaic perhaps. Something easy to gaze at. If they do produce a color, try not to tamper with it if you please.” 

Sergy rose a brow and leaned forward onto his sketchpad, “And just how many pieces should it have? A mosaic takes a lot of time you know and I’m certain you don’t want me smashing your dream shards up to make a more...oh what's the word. ‘Dazzling’ mosaic.” 

“You’re absolutely correct Lermantoff. Any tampering with the dreams I give you, and I take back every promise I agreed to earlier in our encounter.” Pitch scrunched his nose.

Despite him being rendered rather powerless, Sergy knew quite well that the man sitting across from him was no laughing matter. The scale of Pitch’s powers were unknown to him. It didn’t petrify him as much as he’d think, rather it almost excited him underneath his indifferent energy. 

“Understood. How many dreams do you want preserved?” He tapped his book impatiently.

“Four.” Pitch said without hesitation, “At least they will be out of my mind and I can see them without them plaguing my mind without my consent.” He almost snarled. 

Whatever they were, the dreams Pitch wanted preserved almost seemed dreadful to him. But why did he want them preserved of all things? There were certainly spirits that could take certain dreams away. Bakus of Japan, Alps of Germany..but they were more malicious than anything so probably not those spirits in particular. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the Nightmare King had connections to the night terror inducing spirits that came to mind. 

_‘No matter,’_ Sergy thought, _‘If this is what he wants then so be it.’_

“I assume you have the dream essence with you already.” Sergy said as he chased the curious thoughts away.

“Indeed.” Pitch said as he carefully held a bottle of pure gold dream sand with the tips of his fingers, “If my bare hands touched it, the dreams would rot away. It’s a delicate thing when Nightmare spirits like us treasure a dream or two.” 

Pitch gently passed on the dream bottle to Sergy and he held it up into the light to inspect further. A faint smile appeared on his face for a moment before he got up to prepare a mold for the sand. That was what Pitch was hoping to see, he stretched himself enough to see what exactly Sergy was doing to the dream. He could hear Sergy faintly muttering something that almost sounded like an incantation but backwards. The dream sand ceased floating around and laid down inside the mold as if it was regular sand. Sergy then put his working gloves on before carefully spreading the dream sand around so it properly fit it’s chosen mold. Surprisingly, none of the dreamland stuck to his gloves as he worked. 

_‘Perhaps he charmed his gloves as well. No surprise he has such obscure spells up his sleeves when working with such..a precious material such as dreams.’_ Pitch thought to himself. 

The kiln’s door swung open by itself and Sergy carefully placed the mold inside the kiln. 

“Normally I would keep the material separate from the mold until after it has melted, but this piece specifically requires some unorthodox methods.” Sergy said as he watched the dream sand slowly begin to melt. 

He turned to Pitch and removed his gloves.

“So. Am I receiving the nightmare essence if my work is satisfactory?” 

“Ah yes, how could I forget your payment,” Pitch smiled as he stretched his arm out towards Sergy, “You can use that glass bottle I used to hold my dream.”  
  
Sergy quickly scooped it off the table and held it outwards towards Pitch’s hand. Before he knew it, the inky black substance oozed from Pitch’s fingertips and floated seamlessly into the air. A rather peculiar smile appeared on his face as he watched Pitch guide it into the glass bottle. He quickly put the cap on the bottle once all the essence was trapped inside the bottle. 

“Hu..Huu..” Sergy quietly chuckled to himself, “How enthralling.. To have such a forbidden substance casually passed on like this.”  
  
The new side of The High Lord was certainly not what Pitch was expecting. There were shades of dark gray in that man’s personality, hues that amused Pitch in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. 

“To think the protector of this valley would be intoxicated by something so dark is almost downright amusing.” Pitch chuckled lightly.

Sergy glanced at Pitch and tapped the little bottle with his finger, “Observing and investigation are what drive my research _Your majesty._ ” Pitch stood up a little straighter being addressed in such a manner.

He continued, “Preserving dreams and researching their properties isn’t an act of pure selflessness. Every dream has a meaning, an underlying story of it’s dreamer. To see into a story one such as myself is normally not allowed, to study it, to change it; that is what a researcher does with his test subjects after all.” 

“And here I thought you were a chaste man, selflessly protecting the lost dreams of this valley. How interesting. Were you always this sacrilegious with such precious dreams?” Pitch got closer to Sergy, his energy was downright mesmerizing for him to watch. 

Sergy arched a brow and turned toward his kiln to check on the shard, “I do my duty to the valley, and I also pursue my own interests. Nothing more, nothing less. I do not harm the dreamer, so there is no reason for anyone to stop me after all.”  
  
“The few skeletons I saw tucked in the grass seemed to say otherwise, or was that the daydream illusions you spoke of?” Pitch’s words made Sergy freeze in place as he reached for his heat resistant gloves. 

“I do my duty for the valley, as I said. Those who aim to harm it, steal it’s secrets or harm the residents of the glorious valley are enemies of myself. Some are fortunate to stumble across me and get the _happiest_ ending to their story as it can get. Some are less fortunate..and are found much, much later.” Sergy reached inside the kiln and carefully set the dangerously hot materials onto their designated sections of his table.

“They become part of this valley, forgotten by time except for those like me. Hmm. I wonder what ending you would have, were it not for your status as The Nightmare King.” 

Sergy had his back to Pitch as he watched the dream glass cool and start to reveal it’s colors to them. Pitch, still processing Sergy’s words, didn’t move to look at the shard until the colors had fully materialized in the glass.  
  
“Black and Blue..” Sergy muttered, “Two signature colors indicate complex emotions towards such a dream..but the meanings of these colors compliment each other. You mourn this visage, am I correct?”  
  
“Impressive, you truly know your dream colors..” Pitch hovered over him, staring into the shard, “Can you see into it?”  
  
Sergy could tell Pitch was egging him on, so he had no reason to restrain himself from peering into the complex glass.

“I see a blurred face of a woman carrying a young girl in her arms. You’ve long forgotten this woman’s face it would seem. You are reaching out for them and..”

“And?” 

Sergy grew quiet for a moment as he tried to process what the shard showed him.  
“You mourn them both deeply, they are either dead or unobtainable by you.That is what this shard is telling me.”

“Your tone doesn’t sound as enthralled as before Lord Lermantoff, does it surprise you that one such as I wants to preserve that?”  
  
Sergy turned towards Pitch and handed him the shard. “It just means you had a life before you ascended to where you are now. I almost feel sorry for you.”  
  
“Almost.” Pitch chuckled, “You truly are something unique.” 

“You mentioned multiple shards, do you not have them with you? The other dreams? Or are you wasting my time.”

“Oh quite the opposite. I thought, since you might run out of nightmare essence, I could visit continuously whenever you do. You make me a new shard, I supply you with essence, we both get something out of each other. Oh how could I forget, your valley will also remain hidden and kept as a secret between us. What do you say?” Pitch smiled as he stretched his empty hand towards Sergy.

Sergy could feel his heart stop in that exact moment. It felt like he was making a deal with a creature that was willing to indulge in the more macabre side of him. 

_‘This will invite future visits from him..what exactly is his motive with me? I’m not a guardian like Sanderson or Ombric.’_ Sergy contemplated.

“My powers don’t work inside your dwelling, so the chances of me doing anything to you are quite slim.”  
  
“All the more reason to wonder why you want to become involved with me. Is it truly just the shards you’re after, or is it something else entirely?” 

“Perhaps it is both. My Lord, it is truly dishonorable to refrain from answering to a king, isn’t it?” Pitch looked into Sergy’s eyes and gave him a disconcerting smile. 

Sergy almost hesitated before finally shaking Pitch’s hand. The eerie coldness of it almost startled him.  
  
“I’ll give you a sign when your presence is welcome. It stays on my terms so long as you are in my valley. That is all I ask. If I want the visits to stop, you will respect that.” Sergy spoke without stuttering on a single word.

Pitch almost wanted to laugh at how confident he was, it was rich but genuine enough to elicit respect from him.  
“Deal.” Pitch gazed at the shard and tucked it inside his sleeve, “I see that this was the right decision after all.”  
  
Sergy led Pitch out of the work room and kept finding himself occasionally sneaking a glance at the spirit walking beside him. Something about him just commanded his attention in a way that almost annoyed him. Was it his energy? His powers were null indoors so it couldn’t have been them. He just felt so unnaturally drawn into the mystique and power of Pitch Black. His intentions, his mannerisms, his speech. It made his confidence waver once he recognized these emotions. He knew Pitch could sense it, because he could sense Pitch glancing right back at him with those piercing gold eyes. It was almost intoxicating. Sergy opened his front door and tried to quickly find his words before Pitch could take advantage of his predicament. 

“I’ll be in touch when I want to meet again.” He said while he tried to shake off the foreign feeling that tried to weaken his confidence. 

Pitch turned back to him before he was halfway out of the door.  
“I look forward to it, _Sergy._ ”

With a final smirk, he faded into nothing but a misty shadow carried by the wind. Sergy covered his mouth with hand as he watched the Nightmare King leave. Instead of trembling, he just smiled underneath his hand and stifled a chuckle. Things were about to get interesting for him. Interesting indeed.  
  



End file.
